Brave New World
by Rae Montgomery
Summary: Lumen knew what she was leaving behind, but she didn't realize it would be so hard to come home.


Disclaimer: I do not own Dexter or its characters, and I make absolutely no money off of this. This was written for my enjoyment, and hopefully the entertainment of others. :)

Author's Note: I wrote this immediately after the season finale, I just felt like this was something I needed to get off of my chest. I realize that this is rather pointless, and that it rammbles on for quite a bit with no real direction in mind. I apologize. However, if you would be so kind as to leave me some constructive critisism and suggestions for the next time I attempt a Dexter fic, I would be extremely grateful. Thanks! :)

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Lumen does not return home immediately after she leaves Dexter, after she leaves the only man who will ever fully understand her, who (maybe) loves her for who she is and what she's done, and not in spite of it. She takes a plane back to the city she was so desperate to leave before, walks through security without a flinch or second thought and breathes easy, head held high when foreign hands touch her body. She's strong now, more so than ever, and she knows she's untouchable. Dexter taught her a lesson she'll never forget. But the thought of going back to her old life gets her heart pounding and leaves her legs unsteady, so she rents a motel room a few miles away instead.

Every day for a week she walks to the places she used to know, used to be a part of. She sees her family and friends, but stays in the shadows and just watches. She always leaves crying, but she isn't sure if it's because she's afraid of coming back to this life, or because she doesn't want to leave the one she has now.

When night falls she shuts the blinds and strips off the clothes hiding her scars. She stands in front of the bathroom mirror and wonders what the world would see if they ever really saw her. She'll never let them. She traces the wounds with firm intent, no longer feeling pain and shame, but instead a sense of transformation. She thinks she might be beautiful like this.

In bed, before she falls asleep, she wishes for Dexter's arms around her. She knows she loves him, just likes she still loves Owen, but both of them live in the far extremes. She has no place with them, as much as she might want it. She tells herself that this is the last time she will cry for who she used to be, for what happened to her, and for the choices she was forced to make. When she leaves this place she won't look back.

Lumen is home barely two weeks before everyone figures out that something is wrong. She thinks that wrong isn't the right word, more like different. Different is only to be expected, that's why she went away in the first place, but it isn't the different that they expected, and it certainly isn't a different that they like.

She lives with her parents now. She'd quit her job and moved out of her apartment when she left, so she doesn't have the money to live on her own. It's not so bad most of the time, she'd wanted nothing more than extra time with them when she thought she was at the end. It makes it harder to pretend, though. She hasn't learned how to be comfortable in her new skin yet, and she slips up more often than she realizes.

Her father watches her. He has the same wrinkle browed look, with his head cocked just slightly to the left that he gets when try to solve a particularly puzzling problem. He never asks her his questions, and she pretends not to notice when he tries. She doesn't have the answers he's looking for anyway. Her mother alternates between hovering over her every move and wanting as much distance between them as possible. Lumen doesn't blame her, she feels exactly the same.

Her darkness may be gone, but it stained her. She might not have the urge to kill, but she still savors the memory of those she did. Her mother doesn't let her in the kitchen anymore after finding her caressing a chopping knife, the tip of her finger running ever so gently over the blade, a look of fond reminiscence on her face. She was thinking of Dexter.

Lumen never used to be self conscious, and she still isn't, but she has a new sense of self awareness about her body that was never there before. She never leaves her room without covering her scars, and that doesn't go unnoticed. It's hot and humid, and these clothes weigh down more than just her body. She feels like they cover her soul.

She lives (pretends) like this for exactly one month. She's worried she made the wrong choice. It feels like the world is trying to mold Lumen to suit it, and the powerlessness she felt before is slowly creeping back, hovering at the edges, but disappearing before she can ever really catch it. Her parents pressure her to get out more, to experience all that life has to offer. They don't realize that she already has, that she wishes more than anything that she hadn't. Lumen knows that she's cracking, her brittle shell can't withstand much more. Soon enough she's sure that she won't have to pretend anymore, her fake façade will seep into her heart and soul, and she will accept it. And when that happens, she'll agree to the offer for a date from the man at the coffee shop. She'll find another Owen, and pick up as if the past never happened.

Lumen is already at the door, with her keys in hand, wondering what restaurant to go to, and what excuses she'll give the first time he sees her naked, when she stumbles over a package on the top step. She almost ignores it, but the barest glimmer of a shadow niggles at the back of her mind, and she stops. Bending down, she takes a seat on the wooden porch steps, setting the small brown box on her lap. There is no return address, but her blood has already started to pound in her veins. She fights with the tape, resorting to using her teeth to tear it open, until finally the cardboard flaps fall open. Nestled inside, underneath the blood red tissue paper, is a knife. Her knife.

She doesn't realize she's smiling, her first genuine smile since coming home, until she tastes tears in the corners of her lips. Laughing, she races back to her room, shedding clothing as she goes. She hasn't worn her favorite low back, strapless summer dress in forever, and she thinks today might be the perfect time to dig it out. And maybe coffee isn't what she wants after all, there's a new book out she's been meaning to read. And if the cute man behind the checkout counter at the library looks a little like Dexter, well that's ok too. Tucking the blade into her bra, as close to her heart as she can manage, she walks out into the sunshine. Maybe she'll be alright after all.

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